Things we do for Love
by SilverMooonshine
Summary: There are three things you should know about us: 1. Yes, males do exist—although we are rare, for reasons that will later become evident. 2. Yes, our hair has magic properties, and not just for using in wands. 3. No, we don't find one true 'mate.' Our entire existence is based on attracting as many people as possible. But that doesn't mean we don't fall in love. / Veela!Draco


**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, shockingly.  
**

 **Written for:**

 **QLFC Finals Round 2: Oh, That's Suck a Cliché  
Position: **Chaser 2, Holyhead Harpies **  
Prompts:  
** Cliché - Veela!Draco  
2 (narrative device) flashback  
4 (song) 'Remembering Sunday' by All Time Low  
13 (word) temptation  
 **Word Count:** 2,293

 **The 'Make it New Again' Challenge  
** Using the optional prompt Romance (genre)

 **Four Elements Challenge  
** Element: Water  
Category 1: Healing illness  
Category 2: ocean, love and moon

 **I know Veela!Draco is written about a lot, mainly as a way for him to get with Hermione, but I think you'll find this one a little different... Thank you to Lizzie for, as ever, being a fantabulous beta. Enjoy!** **  
**

* * *

Before I begin, there are three things you should know about us:

1\. Yes, males do exist—although we are rare, for reasons that will later become evident.

2\. Yes, our hair has magic properties, and not just for using in wands.

3\. No, we don't find one true 'mate.' Our entire existence is based on attracting as many people as possible. But that doesn't mean we don't fall in love.

* * *

She swept me off my feet. Which is funny, if you think about it. Looking back at everything that happened in my love life at Hogwarts, it was always me who had done the sweeping. I picked the easy targets, the weakest prey. They'd fall at my knees, desperate to be added to the list of Things Draco Malfoy Cared About for a few days or weeks until they were cast aside.

But Astoria was different. I was the weak one, torn apart by the war. She fixed me, refused to be pushed away when I wouldn't let her in. As she broke down my walls she rebuilt me, until I could almost call myself human again. For the first time, it was I who fell. And Merlin, I fell hard.

We wed, and the years flew by, too quickly for me to notice all the details. In our quiet ceremony I missed what would be Astoria's last dance with her father while I spoke to people I didn't even want at my wedding. After Scorpius was born I missed midnight feeds, always too tired from the job I hated. When he was at home I was at work, and when he left for school I missed his letters and left it to Astoria to write to him. I've missed so much, and now it's too late.

There was one day I didn't miss, although I wish I had. It replays in my head, cutting deeper each time. Remembering that Sunday last month is the most painful thing I can do to myself, yet I can't seem to stop. She's been running through my dreams, driving me crazy as I remember how she ran from my life.

This isn't some story where we fell out of love. She's too kind for that, too selfless. Far too selfless. It's funny how it rained all day, when my life crumbled. In books that's always the way; if something sad happens there will always be rain. In real life you could be given the worst news of your life as the sun shines down on you, or as the first snow of winter falls. But I'm glad that only the rain dared to show up that day, and the sun had the decency to stay the hell away from me.

The truth was, she was ill. Seriously ill. Cancer is only really seen as a Muggle disease, which I suppose is part of the reason we don't have a cure for it. It's also the reason we hadn't spotted the signs earlier: the weight loss, the tiredness. She only went to the healers for a check up, and suddenly her whole life changed. They told her it was too late, and that she would deteriorate within a month or so.

She was too selfless. She wanted to leave, to take herself somewhere to die quietly. They told her she could try potions or even Muggle drugs, but that they would likely only extend her life by weeks. She chose not to. I begged her to stay with me so I could care for her. I pleaded and tried, but she denied me the chance to even begin to change her mind. She didn't want me to see her suffer, couldn't bear to watch me suffer too.

She left that evening after writing a letter for Scorpius when he got back from Hogwarts. I know you might be wondering why I didn't refuse to let her leave, or follow her so she couldn't abandon me. Believe me, the temptation was there. I watched her walk out of the door and out of my life, and it was so tempting to run after her and never let her go, But when someone tells you that if you loved them you'd let them go, it's what you have to do. Besides, my son would be home soon, newly graduated and newly motherless.

For over two weeks I didn't leave the house. I barely ate, had barely been sober for days. Unopened letters piled up on the table. My boss came to see me, but my greying skin and bags hanging underneath my eyes like bruises convinced him that I was ill. I don't understand how life can go on while people's worlds are being shattered all around us.

Around two weeks ago something changed. The door opened without so much as a knock I could ignore. By the time I had lifted my head, my mother was stood in front of me. I have never cried so much as I did to her that day. The whole story came out in sobs and shakes into her shoulder, each word wrenching me apart but also soothing my wounds.

When she pulled back, her mouth was set into a hard line. Pulling her wand from her pocket, she lifted it to her head at closed her eyes. A thin, silvery strand appeared, growing longer as she pulled her hand away. When it floated from the tip she opened her eyes and took a deep breath. "There's something I need to show you."

She led me to the study, pulling out the old Pensieve —a gift from my grandfather. She dropped the memory into it, and I let it swirl for a moment before lowering my face into the pool.

* * *

It was unmistakably Malfoy Manor, and unmistakably my mother who led a strange figure through the door. The figure wore a hood and long coat, and clutched a bundle of rags to her chest. I followed them through to the sitting room, where my father sat with a stern look etched into his face. The woman slowly lowered her hood.

She was beautiful. Her hair was not just blonde, but shone so brightly it couldn't possibly be just reflecting the light of the dim room. Her skin was marble white, and her eyes were a startling icy blue. But her cheeks were hollow, with bones protruding at sharp angles, and her eyes were dull and rimmed with red.

I barely took in the bundle of rags until it began to move. It was my mother who went over, pulling them back to reveal a baby. A look flashed across my mother's face which I can only describe as longing.

"Thank you for coming here," my father said. "We are indebted to you, and you are welcome to stay the night before you travel home tomorrow."

"Thank you." The woman's voice was thick with an eastern European accent I could not pinpoint. "But my trip should not have taken this long already. My clan will be getting worried."

"Where did they think you were going?" my mother asked, her eyes still fixed on the young child.

"To the mountain, about two days from our home. It's where all the boys are left. We Veela live in groups of females with only one male in the group. It's why when you see Veela at sports events you'll only ever see the women. There can only be one male. So if we have a son, we must either leave the pack or leave the boy to die."

My father's frown deepened. "And you were going to leave him to die? As part of a couple that cannot have children, I can't imagine how you can be so heartless as to—"

"Lucius, hush. Please, my dear. Continue."

The young woman looked at my father pleadingly. "Please, sir, I would not have left him. I would have stayed with him until we were both killed. We are hunted for our hair. It has healing properties. They like to put it in wands. Even if they only mean to take our hair, plucking a single strand is tantamount to death. We would have been dead within the year.

"But I would've run, rather than leave my own flesh and blood to die. A friend told me about you; you, sir, are very well-known, even as far away as Romania. It was another option, and I would be so grateful if you could take him and save both of our lives."

My mother nodded, the glee shining in her eyes. "Of course, you must know you are making us the happiest people in the world. I give you my word that he will want for nothing. Would you like a moment to say goodbye?"

The woman brushed away the tear forming in her eye. "No, thank you. I have said all of my goodbyes. I wish for him never to know of me, for it would be too dangerous for him to come looking."

My father bowed his head. "Of course."

My mother took the baby in her arms, and lead the woman to the door.

"His name is Draco," the woman said, her voice catching at the end as she turned and her shining hair disappeared into the night. My mother closed the door and pulled the baby, _me_ , close to her chest, her smile finally breaking free.

* * *

"I'm sorry we didn't—"

"She didn't want you to. I understand, Mother."

We sat around and awkwardly avoided that fact that I had called her my mother even though she technically wasn't. It was surprisingly easy to come to terms with the fact that I wasn't even human, although that may have been sleep deprivation preventing me from processing it.

She left not long after, her shoulders slumped, and part of me wanted to hug her. But more of me wanted to hug Astoria, and she was gone. So she walked out of the door, while my unanswered question still burned just behind my lips: _Why are you telling me this now?_

It took me over four days to realise. To think I used to pride myself on being quick and intelligent. I kept replaying the memory over and over in my head, looking for anything that would help. Then I remembered what the Veela had said. I didn't think much of it then but it was starting to make sense. You see, there's one more thing you should know about us:

Our hair can heal people.

Suddenly, I woke up from dreaming and put on my shoes. I had to find Astoria before it was too late. I didn't even care that it meant losing my own life. For the first time, I was going to be the selfless one, to save my wife and give a better life to my son. Even though she didn't believe in love, that it could fix this, I did. This was one thing I couldn't miss.

I searched every place where I thought she could be. I wasted a day searching her childhood village, ignoring the voice in my head that told me she hated this place and wouldn't want to die here. That's when I remembered another Sunday.

We'd had breakfast together, then our small wedding. As soon as we could escape the guests, we'd Apparated to the little cottage in Cornwall where our bags already waited. We'd run down to the beach, splashing and screaming in the freezing ocean, and afterwards we had fallen asleep wrapped in a blanket and each other's arms. As I was drifting off, I'd heard her sleepy voice.

"If I died right here, I could die happy."

I think I only mumbled a reply before falling asleep, but now they seemed like the most important words she'd even said to me. I fought to keep her out of my mind while I pictured the cottage, and turned on the spot as quickly as I could.

I searched from top to bottom, but it was empty. It smelt like her though, and I could sense that she'd been there. I banged on the door of the next house, waking the neighbours with their unfamiliar faces. But they had only arrived that day, and hadn't seen a thing.

I was beginning to give up hope as I ran down to the beach, when I passed an old man who I remembered to be a local from when we'd been here before.

"Excuse me," I said, fishing a photo out of my wallet. "I don't mean to be a bother but have you seen this girl?"

"Why, yes, she spends almost every day on the beach. She's looking frailer by the hour though, won't let nobody talk to her, just sits by herself…"

His voice faded as I took off down the track to the beach, shouting my thanks over my shoulder. When I got there I could make out a shape lying by the water, just visible by the light of the moon. As I got closer I could see how the illness had eaten away at her body, leaving her with only skin and bones. She looked so frail I was worried I was too late. But she still gasped for air, sucking it in through her pale, cracked lips.

So that's how I got here, kneeling by my love, choosing between her life and mine. It's an easy choice, one I can make in a heartbeat. But I don't know if she'll forgive me. I can only hope. I lay one last kiss on her frozen cheek.

The hair falls onto her cheek, burning silver as it touches her skin. It's the last thing I see as my vision fades to black.


End file.
